Misty Wells and the Jose Wejebe Spanish Fly Memorial Foundation joined forces once again for back-to-back fishing trips with some of the kids who need these moments the most — foster children.

These are children who have been forgotten, mistreated, displaced, or who have lost their families through circumstances completely beyond their control. For them, a few days on the water is not just a fishing trip. It is a chance to feel seen, included, encouraged, and reminded that the world is bigger than the hardships they have already faced.

Our first group included a few familiar faces from A Kid’s Place. As much as I love seeing these kids again and reconnecting with them, it is also heartbreaking to know they still have not been adopted or reunited with their families. There is joy in the reunion, but there is also that quiet ache of wishing life had been kinder to them.

A Kid’s Place does an incredible job of keeping siblings together in the same home, protecting those bonds when so much else in their lives has already been disrupted. These children have already had too much taken from them. Keeping brothers and sisters together matters.

The same counselors, Manny and Mark, joined us again this year, which made the trip feel familiar in the best way. Captain Mike Mako was in charge of putting the kids on fish, and Brian Casey played a huge role in helping us make this trip happen at the level we always hope to provide, with a very generous donation, and joining us as Mako’s “mate”. Brian is a good friend and a local attorney in the Keys, and one of my favorite parts of the trip was listening to the nonstop banter between Mako and Brian. It was the kind of boat humor you cannot script — and probably should not repeat in a newsletter without a legal disclaimer.

The mutton snapper were here and biting, so that became the game plan. But, as fishing often goes, the ocean had a few surprises waiting for us.

When you are fishing for mutton snapper, you use a long leader, which meant Mako was on pins and needles bringing up a few of these fish. One surprise was a 27-pound blackfin tuna — his personal best on that boat. I do not think the kids fully realized what a big deal that fish was, but the adults definitely did. Another surprise came in the form of a fat cubera snapper, which added even more excitement to an already incredible day on the water.

After two days of fishing, we switched gears and brought the boys to Dolphin Research Center.

Some of these boys are hard to get a smile out of, and honestly, that is understandable. At their age, it is hard to feel grateful for a place to live when that place is not with your parents. It is easy to be angry. And most of the time, that anger comes from being hurt.

That is one of the reasons animals are so powerful.

Dolphins, and animals in general, have a way of reaching kids without asking too many questions. These massive, intelligent animals choose to engage. They meet the kids exactly where they are, without judgment, without pressure, and without needing an explanation.

The boys participated in Dolphin Research Center’s dolphin encounter program, where they were able to interact directly with the dolphins. I always join them for these visits because my relationship with DRC began at birth, and I have known many of these dolphins for decades. It gives us the opportunity to add a few special moments before and after their swim.

Before and after the encounter, we brought coolers of ice around the docks, giving the dolphins the chance to come interact if they wanted to. One boy finally cracked a smile when the “big boys” lagoon started making all kinds of noises as we walked up with the ice buckets. Yes, the fart noise was a hit. And yes, it got the smile.

Sometimes that is the moment. Not the picture-perfect one. Not the one you plan. The one where a kid who has been guarded all day finally lets joy sneak through.

We wrapped the trip the way we traditionally do — with dinner at the Square Grouper. The boys did not leave a bite on their plates. A few even drank the seafood soup straight from the bowl so they would not miss a drop.

These trips are about fishing, but they are also about so much more. They are about exposure. Belonging. Trust. Laughter. A new experience. A captain taking the time to teach. A counselor seeing a kid relax. A dolphin getting through a wall that words could not. A meal shared around a table where every child has a seat.

Every smile on that boat reminded us why exposure matters. Sometimes one trip can open a child’s mind to a whole new world.

The kids loved the boat, the captain, the ocean, the work, and the reward. More importantly, they loved being included in something meaningful.

The Jose Wejebe Spanish Fly Memorial Foundation did more than sponsor a fishing trip. Together with Misty Wells, our captains, counselors, partners, and supporters, we helped create a moment where these kids felt seen, valued, and capable.

And that is exactly why we do what we do.